


What Family Is

by fivefootthree



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Family, Feels, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 12:02:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10099721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fivefootthree/pseuds/fivefootthree
Summary: In the aftermath of Mexico, Chin finds solid ground.





	

Sometimes, thought Chin Ho Kelly, stifling a groan as the muscles in his back finally unclenched and he was able to relax into the pillows, sometimes the best thing about love is having someone to feel tired around. 

They had gotten back from Mexico just a couple hours ago. He’d held Sarah all the way back on the plane. She’d finally settled a couple hours into the flight and the little tyke was so exhausted she hadn’t even shifted when the plane landed and they disembarked. Steve and Danny took care of his bags so he didn’t have to wake her up, but she came to on her own as they were leaving the airport.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” he whispered into the curve of her ear, and even then he could still hear how his voice shook. Blinking sleepily at him, she smiled, reaching up to kiss him and nestling her face into the crook of his neck. 

Even through the blurring of his eyes he could see Danny watching the two of them fondly. “Best feeling in the world, isn’t it,” he said, and yeah, yeah, it really was, and he’d never give it up ever again, and he was stupid for ever giving it up in the first place.

Kono held the car door open for him, planting a kiss on Chin’s cheek as he maneuvered into the car with Sarah dozing in his arms. “Well done, cuz,” she whispered as she carefully closed the door behind him. 

Done. It was hard to believe. The nightmare was over.

Abby was waiting when they arrived at Chin’s – Steve’s nod told him that he had phoned ahead. Chin felt a little guilty for waking her, guilty and a little bit relieved as well, something in his chest easing when she wrapped her arms around him and Sarah. Her own eyes were damp and grateful, and he took a moment to draw a shuddering breath in the circle of her arms. She hugged Danny, Steve, and Kono too before taking Sarah from his arms and going inside, giving Chin a moment with the team, out on the porch in the middle of the night.

Chin found himself at a loss for words, exhaustion taking over completely – but they had never really needed words for the things that actually mattered, after all, and the strength with which they wordlessly reached out and hugged him shook him to his core. So he reciprocated, leaning on Steve for a few long moments and whispering thanks in the old language. Holding on to Danny and looking him long and hard in the eye, hoping that Danny, that voluble, volatile Danny would understand the quality of the wordlessness that he offered him—the wordlessness that was too full of words to speak, and for Kono – he took her face in his hands and brought them forehead to forehead, hugging her close and tight when her tears spilled out from eyes that she couldn’t quite bring up to meet his. 

“Go to your family, Chin,” Steve said, his voice gruff with emotion and exhaustion. “No work tomorrow,” Danny concurred sagely, a yawn nearly ripping his face in half. “If any of you go to work I’ll—” he paused a moment, floundering, “I’ll sic my nephew on you, ok. He’ll talk you out of there faster than—faster than—than Steve trying to give me a heart attack with how he drives the car.”

The familiar commentary hit the right note, eliciting chuckles from everyone. “Good night, Chin,” Kono said, leading the others back to the car. “Call if you need anything.”

Abby was waiting for him inside the door. “She didn’t even wake up when I laid her down,” she told him as he beelined to Sarah’s room. He paused in the doorway, feeling a hole in his heart slowly stitch itself shut as Abby shuffled herself into his arms and the two of them watched Sarah sleep.

Five, ten, fifteen minutes.

Abby said nothing, just held the still tense, wiry frame tighter. 

“I’m still wired,” he admitted finally. He was. He knew eventually it would hit him hard, but all through the flight back he hadn’t been able to nod off like the rest of the team had. He jerked awake at every bump and whisper, the terror of losing Sarah still all too close, and finally he gave up trying.

“Come on,” Abby whispered, the softness in her eyes curving around his hard lines and bringing him just a little bit more home. “I can help.”

She led him to the kitchen and turned on the light, pulling him to the island and seating him on one of the stools with a kiss on his cheek. He appreciated the chance simply to sit and breathe, there in the 4AM darkness, as she filled the kettle with water, placed it on the stove. He let himself hear the clicking of the gas as she turned it on, and watched as she pulled out, to his surprise, the black tea. While they waited for the water to boil, she then pulled out, he realized with a small grin, the materials for a grilled cheese sandwich like the ones he lived on in college: sliced bread, cheddar cheese, butter. She plated it just as the kettle began to whistle, and he admired as always the easy grace with which she moved. She brewed the tea long and hot, adding milk and twice as much sugar as usual, handing it to him with a pleased smile as he polished off the sandwich.

“Want another?” she asked. 

He shook his head no, abandoning the plate to wrap his hands around the steaming mug of tea. He had always appreciated the ritual of tea, but this time, aching and tired as he was, the heat sent tendrils of comfort up his arms, and he could physically feel the muscles in his arms begin to unclench. The first sip of it was enough to actually distract him from the thrum of still too close fear: it was hot and sweet and strong, and it brought him back with a jolt into his own skin, and he blinked with surprised awareness into the steam rising from the mug, as though he had just noticed it.

Abby was smiling at him, a mug of tea in her own hands. “Better?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said, dragging in a long breath through his nose. “I needed that. Thanks.”

Her quick nod was as good as a “don’t mention it.” She handed him two ibuprofen. “These’ll help too.”

He nodded, dragging out a smile for her. “Thanks.”

She came around the kitchen island and sat on the stool next to him, her hand snaking out to rest on his arm. They drank their tea together, Chin feeling weariness crawl up his bones and make his limbs heavy. He could sleep now, he realized as a yawn cracked his jaw. Abby chuckled. “How do you feel about a shower?”

“If I don’t fall asleep standing up,” he said, huffing the slightest chuckle. But yeah. This skin still carried Mexico on it – he was too antsy to leave to take time to clean up more than his face and hands properly before they got on the plane, and suddenly he was hyperaware of the grime and dirt of Mexico baked into the crevices of his skin.

Mexico was ugly, he realized, though he was unsure if it was because of what happened there or not. He wasn’t going back. Ever. 

If he could help it. Chin Ho Kelly was, after all, a pragmatist. 

“Chin?” 

“Yeah. Sorry.” He pushed his chair back from the island, stood up slowly. “I’m good.” 

That wasn’t entirely true, he thought as the world looped around him in a lazy circle. Abby was still there though, jamming her shoulder under his arm. 

“Right,” she said, and the sarcasm hid deep in the monosyllable made him smile. 

“Good enough,” he amended. 

She would follow him right into the bathroom and help him strip but—he couldn’t show her, not just yet. “No, I—I got this,” he said.

“Chin,” Abby remonstrated. “You don’t—”

He cut her off. “I—I can’t. Tomorrow. Not yet, I’m sorry.”

She looked long into his eyes. He could tell when she relented, her eyes softening. “Do you need to get checked out by a doctor?”

He shook his head. “It’s actually nothing really serious. Steve bandaged the worst of them on the way over; the rest are just bruises.”

(His whole back was a bruise, and hidden under his jacket was a nasty bruise that ringed his neck – from the chain those assholes had yanked him by.)

She arched her eyebrow, but accepted his assessment. “But I’ll be right outside the door, okay.”

“Thanks.”

It took him three tries to be able to raise his arms high enough to take off his damn shirt, and he had to sit down on the toilet just to peel his pants and bandages off. 

Finally, he was able to step into the shower, and he had to hold on to the handle as the cool water hit his back and made his senses swim. But as the water warmed he found his eyes sinking shut, the water sluicing away the dirt of the jungle and—

And he had been completely ready to die, there in that fucking jungle.

He knew his team would come after him, of course he did. But he was fully aware that it was more than likely that they wouldn’t find him until too late. 

Part of him was proud that he had no reservations about doing what he did. He knew he did the right thing, that any one of them would have done the same.

But part of him was freaking out at how – simple – the choice was. It was the only choice that was acceptable to him; he wasn’t going to let the team go on a suicide mission, simple as that.

But he knew what suicide did to the people it left behind. 

Did some part of him want to be dead? 

Chin never thought of himself as a particularly downbeat person. Before 5-0 it had been bad, sure, but there had been the refuge of being a crusader – of being wrongfully condemned and living in spite of it anyway. He had gotten into some dark places after Malia’s death, but he hadn’t stayed there; his team had pulled him out. 

And yet for Sarah he had completely flipped his lid. Threatening people with guns, suicide missions, absolutely losing it, being completely, casually careless with his own life. 

Your life is not your own, he remembered from some story he’d read years ago. Keep your hands off it. 

He didn’t think he wanted to die. Actually, he was pretty sure he didn’t: he had Abby, Sarah, a job where he actually did good and meaningful work, a work family that was better than he deserved, Kono, heck, even Adam had well and truly become a brother. 

He squeezed soap into his sponge and worked it up into a lather, passing it over the bruises and tears without paying much attention. 

Did he want to die? He really wasn’t sure what the truth was. 

He startled as Abby spoke from the other side of the curtain. “Chin? Are you okay in there?”

“Yeah, sorry! Just – got lost in my own head for a bit.” He rinsed himself off, grimacing as he saw the soap suds swirling at his feet had pink patches. Something must have reopened. 

She was quiet for a moment. “Are you—back now?” she asked, hesitant.

He turned off the water, his turn now to be quiet and still.

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “Abby – it was bad,” he admitted. 

She waited. “Do you want me to leave?”

She could hear his breathing pick up before he drew the shower curtain back for her to see. She could feel her eyes widen in shock at the kaleidoscope of bruises blossoming in stark contrast to his usually marble skin, but she bit back the horrified words that threatened to tumble out of her mouth. 

“Tell me you—” she paused, swallowed back the wobble that threatened to break the dam. “Tell me you got the bastards.”

“Every one of them,” he said, his voice hardening in triumph.

“Good,” she said, but she could feel her resolve crumble. “Chin, I—”

And something about the way her voice cracked had him reaching out to her. He was still soaking wet, but she didn’t care, content to touch him, to feel him alive and triumphant, his heart beating fast under her palm.

He heaved a breath, and then it spilled out of him half-humorously, half-seriously. “Abby, I hate Mexico!” 

She chuffed a wet giggle. “Yeah,” she answered. “Yeah, me too.” Reaching over to the hook on the wall, she pulled his gray bathrobe out and wrapped it around him. “Come on,” she said, leading him out of the shower stall. He leaned heavily on her, very nearly at the end of his rope. “Just a little bit more, love,” she cajoled. “Just to bandage you up, and then bed, I promise.”

She helped him sit on the toilet seat and rebandaged his wounds. There were a couple ribs that she was worried may be cracked, but the worst of it was truly the bruises and the cuts on his face. Chin didn’t make a sound, but she could tell when she touched his back he was in bad pain just by the way his muscles bunched up. She found herself murmuring apologies as she worked, planting feather-light kisses after she was done with a spot, tears blurring her vision whenever he flinched. “All done,” she said, coming around to face him when she was finally through, and though he was pinched and strained with pain he still mustered up a smile of gratitude.

Finally, there was nothing left to do besides go to bed. Slowly, they shuffled to the bed and he laid down with a grunt of relief while she hurriedly slipped into sleep clothes. Before she got into bed, though, she crossed the hall to check on Sarah one more time before sleep. She had left her door open and the hallway light on just in case the child woke up, but Sarah was awake, sitting up in bed, eyes blinking wide and confused as she took in her surroundings.

“Hey sweetheart!” Abby said softly, not wanting to startle her.

“Auntie Abby?” Sarah said. “Where’s Uncle Chin?”

“He’s sleeping. You want to—”

“I’m right here, my girls,” Chin said, having suddenly appeared from behind her. “I heard Sarah,” he said apologetically, and though he put on a good face for Sarah, Abby moved closer to him just in case.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” Sarah said, climbing out of her bed. Chin’s face creased into a broad smile, and Abby’s heart thumped, an answering smile leaping onto her face as she drank in Chin’s happiness, his beautiful goodness. She didn’t quite understand why, but there were tears in her eyes. 

“Of course you can, sweetheart!” he said, reaching out and taking her hand, and Abby was relieved he didn’t try to pick her up. 

“Chin!” she called out suddenly, and he turned around to face her. “Thank you for coming back to me,” she said, feeling embarrassed. She wasn’t really sure what led her to say it, or what led her to add, “Please don’t ever – not be you.”

She was shocked to see tears spill out of his eyes for the first time that night. 

“And who – is that?” he asked. 

“A good man,” and she was actually crying now. “The best damn man in the world. Chin, you—I think you are the only one who actually knows what it means to love living.”

And she didn’t know why, but she could tell that he was moved, his eyes slipping shut for a moment as he composed himself. But he too was crying, quietly, wetly, even as Sarah reached out for her hand and pulled her closer toward them. “I didn’t know,” he said after a minute.

“That you are a good man?” she teased through her tears.

“That I was – all that – to you.”

“You are more.”

Because of course that’s what it was. That loving living didn’t have to mean loving your own life more than anything, but that it means loving others more. Enough to sacrifice everything for them – and enough to come back to them too. To give yourself to them.

This, then, is what family is. 

What Chin Ho Kelly’s family is.

**Author's Note:**

> I know that Hawaii Five-O is supposed to be mostly about Steve, but let's be real, Chin is by far the better man. I keep wishing they'd stop torturing him and give him some real happiness that isn't going to be snatched away, and this is my way of doing that.


End file.
